Red Rover

I have no idea how many days I’ve been stuck in this cell. I’m not even sure where the cell is, though I have a pretty solid guess. It’s dark, damp, cold, and smells like something died and kept decaying.

And the only company I’ve got? Hecate and Odin, locked up in the cells on either side of me. Odin’s liquid diet of mead has made this place reek like a musty crypt. Add Hecate’s never-ending incense, and you can imagine the olfactory nightmare I’m dealing with.

How did I get here? Fucking Hermes. That slippery bastard should’ve been the god of chaos, not the messenger. Asshole.

He showed up claiming I was “urgently needed” on Mt. Olympus. Said there was a threat to all of us. That we needed to come together and figure out a plan.

“What’s the danger?” I asked, wrapping a cloak of stars and night around my shoulders.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be the messenger, now would I?” Hermes shot back in his signature rapid-fire ramble. “They don’t tell me shit—just send me to round up everyone. And I mean everyone: from the Underworld, oceans, rivers, forests, the heavens—every damn corner.”

I opened my mouth to respond—“Well, actually—”

“Great. See you later. Byeeee!” And poof—gone.

I had a bad feeling about the whole thing, but I chalked it up to the urgency. I called Hecate, and we traveled to Olympus together.

We’ve always been close. One-third of Hecate’s being is the goddess of the night, and I am the goddess of the moon. Natural allies. But after what happened with our children 21 years ago—when her witches and my wolves joined forces—we’ve become even closer. We even agreed to let our children cross realms to be with their mates. Iris was the first of many witches to join my realm, and I’ve got a few wolves living in hers.

So yeah, it made sense to travel together.

But what we walked into?

Eleven major gods of Olympus, chained to their thrones by... things. Creatures I didn’t recognize. We ducked behind a massive pillar backed up to a wall.

Imps. Demons. Succubi. Demi-gods. They were restraining the Olympians. The only ones missing? Hades, Persephone... and Hermes.

Hades, I get. He’s only allowed on Olympus one day a year—the winter solstice. Zeus made him that deal when Hades became Lord of the Underworld. Physically, he can’t step foot on Olympus unless it’s that day.

Persephone? She's in the Underworld right now, her off-season from the surface.

But Hermes? If this was the emergency he claimed, he should’ve been here already. Unless he knew what this really was.

And judging by how shifty he was when he left... yeah. He knew.

“How do we get out of this?” Hecate whispered. “I’ve tried teleporting. I can’t.”

Damn. She’s usually the quick thinker. Me? I’d just been staring at the chaos, frozen. But when I tried teleporting—same thing. Nothing.

“I can’t either,” I said, panic rising.

“That’s by design, dear cousins,” a voice purred behind us.

We turned to see Eris—the goddess of discord. “Strife” in English. Very on-brand. She’s the one who set the Trojan War in motion just because she wasn’t invited to a wedding. Heroes died, civilizations crumbled, divine rifts exploded. All because she got snubbed.

So yeah, seeing her show up? Not a good sign.

“What is happening, Eris? Why are you rising up against the Olympians?” Hecate demanded.

Eris laughed, a full-body cackle that almost drowned out the sounds of battle echoing through the throne room. “Because I hate you! All of you! What have the Olympians ever done for me? Nothing! I’ve been vilified for doing exactly what I was created to do.”

Her face twisted with malevolent glee. “So now? Now I’m helping take back the power—for all of us who’ve been crushed under your golden boots.”

Demons surged out from either side of the pillar—succubi, ifrits, imps, shedim. They wrapped us in chains of silver and iron.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. So many demons, from so many pantheons. Christian. Jewish. Celtic.

“They shouldn’t be able to cross the barriers of Mt. Olympus—let alone into the throne room,” I muttered. “How are they here?”

Eris smiled like the serpent she is. “Oh, Selene. Welcome to the new order of things.”

I don’t know what they did to us—but I blacked out.

When I woke up, I was here. In this cell. Tartarus, probably. None of us can access our powers. At all.

No spark. No warmth. No food. No connection to our followers. Nothing.

And I’m freezing. And hungry. Damnit.

I grab the bars, trying to channel every ounce of power, strength, and sheer rage I have to bust out. But of course—fucking silver. It burns instantly. I scream, but I don’t let go.

Silver’s a soft metal. If these bars are pure, I might be able to bend them.

But no. It’s just a silver coating over something harder. I can’t move them.

With a final, furious scream, I shove away from the bars.

“How’d that work out, young one?” Odin calls from the next cell over.

“All Father, with all due respect, shut the fuck up. I don’t see you doing anything to get us out,” I snap, furious and nursing my scorched hands. My healing is sluggish here—still working, just not fast.

Odin snorts. The closest thing to a laugh I’ve heard from him. “This isn’t how I die. I’ve seen my death. This? Not it. I’ll make it through.”

“Well, that’s just so helpful, Odin. Thanks so much,” I spit back. He’s ancient and powerful, sure—but right now, he’s just annoying.

“I get it, Selene,” Hecate says gently. “But brute force clearly isn’t the answer. You’re just hurting yourself—and giving the rest of us headaches.”

“Well, I have to do something! I’m going insane sitting here, waiting. Our followers haven’t found us—who knows why—and meanwhile those bastards are out there doing gods-know-what to the world!”

By the end, I’m shouting.

Then, right on cue, Hermes appears outside my cell.

“I might be able to help with that,” he says casually.

“You asshole!” I scream, lunging through the bars to grab his neck. Silver scorches my arms, chest, and face—but I don’t care. I yank him toward me by the throat. “At least now I’ve got something to keep me entertained.”

“Wait! I have news!” he gasps, choking.

I loosen my grip—barely. “Speak. Fast.”

“I know someone who can get you out,” he coughs.